Till Death Do Us Part
The sound of the rain was calming.
Clark lay in Lex's bed with expensive cotton sheets twisted around his legs, letting the cool humidity of the spring air waft sluggishly over his skin. Lex's body was a warm weight beside him, a grey-toned portrait of soft pale lines and even softer shadows, nearly luminescent in the moonlight that spilled into the room.
Closing his eyes, Clark let the memories of the previous evening roll over him. The feel of Lex's body moving between his hands, sweat-sheened skin and hot eyes and dirty, heat-filled words that somehow skirted the edge of the obscene while speaking of things like love and trust and total abandon. There was something invigorating in the memory of it, that Lex would allow Clark to see that side of him. Like it was a part of Lex that Clark owned, that was his and his alone.
And it was amazing, the romantic tripe the mind could come up with when one was lying in bed at night listening to the rain.
Because Lex wasn't his. No one could possibly own Lex, which was -- perversely -- one of the things that drew Clark to him. No one wrote Lex's destiny but Lex. He was an island unto himself, for all that he professed to love and need and want and care. Clark could admit that here, within the echoing silence of his thoughts.
So many walls. It was ironic, really, because both of them honestly wanted to trust -- needed it, more than anything else in their lives. More than that, they each wanted to find someone worthy of that trust, someone who would be able to break down the walls and trust them in return. There were nights when Clark lay in bed at night dreaming about it.
Aching for it.
But right here, right now, this was almost... enough. Watching Lex sleep beside him, as open to him as he ever was, as honest as he could ever possibly be. And if there were shadows lurking beneath the surface of that oh-so-calm exterior, well... it wasn't as if Lex were the only one with that particular characteristic. Perhaps it was that darkness that Clark found so attractive. Shadows created depth, after all, as any artist would say.
But deception couldn't beget trust, no matter how whole-heartedly the heart wished for it. And that was the crux of the matter right there. There were things about Lex that Clark would never know -- didn't want to know, if he was being honest with himself. Lex was his father's son, no matter how much he tried to deny it. And Clark... well. The less said about him, the better.
It surprised him sometimes, how much he wanted. How much Lex could make him want. Make him need. And now that he had it -- had Lex -- it was excruciatingly painful to think that he might ever lose him. That the love they'd found together could ever turn stale, or wither away, or -- even worse -- change into something that neither one of them wanted to contemplate. But how long could it last, really, when neither one of them was willing to share who they truly were with the other?
No. It would last.
Clark would make it last.
And here, lying in the dark with the rain drumming against the windows and Lex curled up in the bed beside him, he could actually almost believe it.
Clark rolled onto his side, and just like that, Lex tensed, awake between one breath and the next. Warrior reflexes. Either that, or the reflexes of a man on the run. What was Lex running from in his dreams? Himself? His father? Clark? Clark wondered sometimes.
Pale blue eyes fluttered open to look at him, touched silver by the reflection of the rain.
"Clark." Lex's voice was soft. He reached out a hand to touch him, sliding a cool, callused palm over the skin of Clark's arm. Clark shivered under the touch.
"Lex." Clark wondered if Lex would look at him the same way if he knew that all of his suspicions about Clark's extraterrestrial lineage were correct. Because as much as Lex had learned about him over the years, it was still just speculation. It wouldn't be real until one of them voiced the words aloud.
Something in Lex's gaze sharpened as the silence grew between them, and he lifted his head from his pillow slightly. "Is everything all right?" His fingers tightened over Clark's arm.
And that... wasn't a question Clark could answer honestly. So he did the next best thing.
"Fine," he lied, leaning down to kiss Lex on the mouth. Such smooth, responsive lips, opening under his own with the fervor of a drowning man. It was enough to make Clark wonder if Lex was as eager to put this latest deception behind them as he was, and he leaned down, deepening the kiss with his own share of desperation, feeling Lex's body come awake beneath his own.
There was nothing fragile about Lex, nothing soft, and when he was in bed with Clark, he held nothing back. It was something Clark felt doubly grateful for now, as the hands that gripped him gave as good as they got, clinging to him with a grasp that would have bruised a human body. There was something almost angry about Lex's kisses, as if he were trying to punish Clark, or trying to punish himself, and Clark winced under the teeth that scraped across his lips, wishing they were able to draw blood.
"Clark," Lex said again, and there was something dark in his voice now, something hoarse and needful that sounded almost like a plea. Clark held him tighter, deepening the kiss they shared, and sighed as the taste of Lex shuddered through him -- an exotic combination of salt and lust and desperation. It was familiar, safe, and Lex responded to his need without question, without reservation, offering himself up unhesitatingly for whatever Clark wanted.
Lex's body opened to him easily, still slick from their activities of the previous evening, and Clark bit back a moan as they rocked together, feeling Lex's sudden tension melt against his own. He slipped eagerly into the rhythm their bodies made, feeling the pulse of the storm outside beat through him like a second heartbeat, driving through him with the rhythm of the rain. It felt so good to make love with Lex, like coming home, like being truly accepted for what was possibly the first time in his life. Clark gave himself up to it, allowing himself to believe that it would last forever.
But of course it couldn't last, and all too soon, the pleasure of it peaked with an intensity that pulled a ragged shout from his throat. He buried his face against the side of Lex's neck as the orgasm seared though him, breathing in the scent of him, rich and dark and good, good, good. It only took a moment longer for Lex to join him, and Clark clung to him with a possessiveness that almost seemed to border on despair.
"I love you," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against Lex's skin. He shivered under the hand that traced its way down his spine.
"I know," Lex whispered back, and there was a note in his voice that sounded... resigned. How much of Clark's fear and doubt was he aware of? How much of it did he share? His arms tightened around Clark's shoulders, however, as if -- like Clark -- he couldn't quite bring himself to give up what they had despite the lies that stood between them.
Maybe Lex, too, was trying to believe that love would be enough to see them through.
Clark closed his eyes and let Lex hold him, allowing the silence to enfold them both, rife with all the words they couldn't say. And maybe it really was enough, for the moment, to be here, and to know that -- right here, right now -- he was loved.
Maybe in the end, the lies didn't really matter.
He could allow himself to believe that. What was one more lie, after all?
Staring out across the darkness of the room, he relaxed into Lex's embrace and listened to the sound of the rain.
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